


The Girl I Like Was Struck By Lightning

by VickyVicarious



Series: The Girl I Like [1]
Category: 1-800-WHERE-R-U Series - Meg Cabot
Genre: F/M, POV Rob Wilkins, Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-06
Updated: 2008-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: 'When Lightning Strikes' rewritten from Rob's POV. Contains dialogue from the books.
Relationships: Jessica "Jess" Mastriani/Rob Wilkins
Series: The Girl I Like [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038147
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written in 2008 and I'm only just uploading it at the end of 2020. I've been meaning to move this series on here since I _made_ this account, but kept putting it off till I made edits as well. Given that it's been _years_ , I decided to just give up on anything too intense, but as I post I will go over the chapters so there might be minor differences here and there if something jumps out at me as misspelled or very awkward wording or whatever. That said, it is still an old fic. I mean, I'm gonna backdate it so this note may not be necessary, but whatever.
> 
> Even though I wrote this series a long time ago, and it is obviously pretty derivative of the books, the reception for it is some of, if not the, best I've ever gotten for my fics. I had a lot of really loyal readers and kind reviewers. So if any of them have also made the move to AO3 and see this, thank you so much. That early support and this writing practice (this was the first time I finished a multichapter fic) was really, really helpful to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As in the book, Rob's kinda pushy at first and makes a couple fat-shaming comments about Ruth.

“Mastriani? Well duh, you haven’t seen her in classes; she’s only 16, not a senior. You didn’t seriously think she was, did you?”

I do have detention a lot, and I admit I flunked Health the first time around because I never paid attention, but generally I like to think I’m a pretty smart guy. But sometimes I do something so incredibly stupid that I can’t help but wonder if those Townies are right about us Grits being as dumb as the livestock some of us own.

This happened to be one of those times.

You see, I had finally made a move and asked out this girl – Jess Mastriani. Well, I guess ‘finally’ isn’t exactly the word… I haven’t really even liked her for a long time. I mean, I noticed her before, like last semester, in Health. She sat in front of me, and occasionally Kurt and I would talk and she’d butt in with her own comments, but for the most part she never really stood out on my radar.

But then I got detention for two weeks because of that time I’d left in second period to go help Chick out at the bar because he was sick, rather than stay for math. And I saw her in there, up ahead of me in the auditorium.

I can’t say that I was entirely surprised; I mean, any Townie girl who will actually carry out a conversation with the two Grits behind her about _motorcycles_ – let’s just say I knew from then on that Jess wasn’t much like most other girls.

Well, it was that and her tendency to just wear t-shirts and jeans and not dress up, not wear makeup, and have very short, probably easy-to-manage hair, unlike other girls.

Not that I watched her frequently or anything; I’m just a guy. We tend to notice when certain girls stick out.

So anyway, I’d never really been interested in _going out_ with Jess, just mildly interested in why she was so, well… different. But then, when I saw her in detention, combined with what I already knew about her, I kind of thought, why not?

I guess it didn’t really hurt that she was really hot.

So, I offered to give her a ride after detention. She refused, apparently preferring to walk through what must be several miles of rain with her weird friend to getting a simple _ride_ from me, which annoyed me for a while, until I realized that she probably hadn’t refused because I was a Grit, and more because she didn’t want to leave her friend alone.

Of course, I realized this right about the same time that I noticed it was tornado weather outside, and I got really worried for a little while. Sure, there wasn’t really much I could have done to get them out of the way of the storm – my Indian, good as I’d fixed it up, simply cannot fit three passengers – but I’d just _left_ them there.

I’m pretty sure Mom wouldn’t be very happy with me.

But luckily, the storm cleared up really soon and there wasn’t too much damage, so I figured they would probably have been okay. Besides, I was a little busy at the time. The truck had been parked outside, and hail had smashed the windshield in, so I had to take it down to my uncle’s garage and fix it.

I admit, I still felt a little worried, but all my fears relaxed when I saw Jess in detention the next day. Well actually, more than saw her: Miss Clemmings moved her to the back, to sit right in the middle of the _W_ s, I guess to keep us from fighting.

Which was probably a good move. Miss Clemmings is pretty tiny and isn’t equipped to keep us from fighting or even talking, like she’s supposed to. And yeah, looking at her, you wouldn’t guess that Jess would be able to stop any of us either, but if you’d been in the cafeteria a few days ago, you’d have seen that she’s got a pretty good right hook – which is why she ends up in detention in the first place; because she goes around punching people who insult her family, or just really piss her off.

Anyway, Miss Clemmings pointed Jess back here, to the _W_ s row, because – well, I really don’t like some of these people, no matter if we occasionally hang out, and it hasn’t helped that I’ve been forced to sit next to Wendell and Wylie for an hour every day.

So half the row moved over for her – everyone past me, because she was taking my seat – and she sat down. Everyone else was groaning and complaining pretty loudly, but I can’t say I really minded. Sure, I had to move, but it meant I’d at least get the chance to actually ask her out.

“Welcome to hell,” I said when she sat down, glad to see I still warranted a grin even after driving off yesterday. Of course, as soon as she smiled, that idiot Wylie had to grab his crotch and leer at us, prompting me to threaten him, “You’re dead, Wylie.”

See how fights break out?

Miss Clemmings said “Shhh,” and clapped her hands, whispering, “If I hear another word back there, you’re all getting an extra week,” in a way that was probably meant to be threatening but came across as more scolding – like you’d talk to naughty four year-olds in a day-care.

Still, we all listened; mostly because we knew she’d carry out her ‘threat’ and then we’d end up spending _another_ week next to each-other. Of course, we usually all had an extra week by the time two days had gone by anyway (my original two-week sentence was already five weeks long by that time, and I still had two more left), but we tried to avoid it.

Wendell went back to playing with his paper football, and all the other _W_ s went back to what they’d been doing before Jess had come down – although some of them had to start over whatever they’d been scratching into their seats. I, however, didn’t bother to go back to my spy novel. I’d already read it anyway, and I was too busy watching Jess, pretending to watch the play rehearsal.

But it was _Endgame_ ; I wasn’t exactly interested in it, not when Jess was sitting right there, anyway. I watched her for a few minutes; she was doing some sort of homework. I think she’s the only person in detention who consistently behaves well; all she ever does is sit there and do homework, or watch the plays. It’s just another aspect of the mystery that is Mastriani: she does enough to get detention every day for pretty much all of the school year, but when she’s actually _in_ detention, she’s a model citizen.

After a few minutes, I decided there really was no better time than now – we don’t share any classes, and she’s always with her friend after detention – and reached over to grab her book, nodding at the geometry she’d been doing before turning to a new page and writing her a note. _So did you get caught in the rain yesterday?_

Jess took the notebook and her pen back, glancing up at Miss Clemmings like she was worried she’d be caught. But really, there was no punishment for note-passing in detention. It’s not like passing notes is worth a detention normally, not unless you do it all the time and always get caught, and usually the detention monitor’s just grateful you aren’t talking out loud and disturbing whatever play is getting practiced at the moment.

After a very long pause, she handed the notebook and pen back, with a short reply: _Yes._

Yeah, you’re so encouraging, Mastriani. I mean, if it weren’t for the way she’d smiled at me earlier, I’d have thought she was still mad and didn’t want to talk to me.

Maybe I could have phrased asking her out better than I did, like simply asking if she wanted to go out, but I never said I was perfect. I wrote back: _Told you so. Why don’t you ditch the fat girl and come for a ride with me after this?_

The moment she finished reading that, she froze completely for a second, with a really weird look on her face – then started scribbling furiously. After a few seconds, she passed the paper back. _Are you mentally impaired or something? That fat girl happens to be my best friend._

I couldn’t help but grin, even though she’d just insulted me. That was a big part of why I liked her: her fire. And I had insulted her best friend. But _that_ I didn’t exactly feel sorry for… unlike Mastriani, her chubby friend was typical of all the other Townies in one very important factor: she looked down on all Grits.

I quickly wrote a reply: _Jesus, sorry. I had no idea you were so sensitive. Let me rephrase. Why don’t you tell your gravitationally challenged friend to take a hike, and come for a ride with me after this?_

Mastriani took a moment to reply, then passed the notebook and pen back again. She didn’t notice Wendell raising an eyebrow behind her, or me glaring at him. Luckily, he didn’t say anything – for once showing some sense. I took her note and read it with a sinking heart. _It’s Friday night, you loser. What do you think, I don’t already have plans? I happen to have a boyfriend, you know._

Okay, she was definitely not being very encouraging, smile earlier or no. But I wasn’t ready to give up; for several reasons. One, she didn’t really look angry or anything while writing this – to the contrary, she actually had a little smile curling her lips. Two, there was the matter of my pride: if I just quit now, it would be pretty embarrassing, and besides, she seemed to be almost challenging me, and Three: something told me she didn’t _really_ have a boyfriend.

So I wrote back something I knew she’d appreciate, being a motorcycle buff: _Yeah? Well, I bet your boyfriend isn’t rebuilding a ’64 Harley in his barn._

I could practically see her begin to drool at the mention of the Harley, but she quickly wrote back: _My boyfriend doesn’t have a barn. His dad is a lawyer._

Yeah, somehow I was still doubting that… right up until the point I remembered that there was a pretty good lawyer in town, Mr. Abramowitz, who’d helped my mom with her divorce. Didn’t he have a son about our age? But I shook it off. I was probably making connections that didn’t exist. _So? Dump him. Come for a ride._ It was a little humiliating how many times I’d had to say this, especially considering that she was apparently nowhere near agreeing.

Maybe that was why I reacted the way I did when Hank started calling, “Wylie. Wylie?” and Greg responded with a “Suck on this, Wendell.”

But Jess had told them to stop it – more precisely, “Both of you, shut the hell up before Clemmings looks over here.” And they didn’t listen to her. On the contrary, Wendell threw his dumb spit-and-paper football over to Wylie, completely ignoring Mastriani. For some reason, this really pissed me off. They just weren’t treating her with the respect she deserved.

I caught the football before Wylie could grab it, and told them both, in a voice that sounded way more menacing than my normal one, “You heard the lady. Knock it off.”

I guess my voice sounded sort of scary to them too, or maybe they just didn’t want the hassle, I don’t know – but they both quieted down, and kind of glanced away, ignoring us again. I have to admit, I was a little worried when Jess started writing again. Maybe she didn’t like me fighting her battle. But really, they were both twice her size, and anyway –

My thoughts were interrupted by Jess passing me the notebook and pen again. _Okay_ , it said, _On one condition._

 ** _No conditions_**. I was seriously through with all this crap. I mean, I just wanted to ask her out! Why couldn’t she just give me a simple ‘yes’?

She started to write something back – _THEN I CAN’T GO_ – but I grabbed the notebook before she was done, angrily scribbling out, _All right. What?_

She smiled – and that was how we ended up in Paoli.


	2. Chapter 2

I know I’ve said it plenty of times already, but I think it deserves another mention: Jess Mastriani isn’t like any other girl I know. And I’m not even referring to her fervent denials of me asking her out, only to change her mind in an instant on the condition I take her to Paoli, or the way she doesn’t care about fashion, or the habit she has of attacking people much larger than she is, or the way she doesn’t buy into the whole ‘Townies are better than Grits’ thing.

No, I'm talking about speed.

I knew she _liked_ motorcycles; but I guess I never really realized before that drive to Paoli how much she _loved_ them. Just the expression on her face when I sat down and handed her a helmet behind me… Not to mention, she wasn’t at all scared when I sped up outside of city limits.

See, one of the things I like so much about motorcycles is the speed you can go on them, and how you feel caught up in it, the rush of air and whiz of the tires on the road. I just feel _free_ when I’m driving around on my Indian, and the faster I go, the better it is.

And I think Mastriani feels the same way.

It’s probably not a big deal, Jess liking speed as much as me… but it just feels important somehow. All the way to Paoli, I was just stunned by it…

But anyway, back to the point. Paoli.

Paoli was just your typical little one-horse Southern Indiana town: one of everything, except for churches, of which there were plenty. I’d never been there before, but Jess seemed really well acquainted with it; at least, she knew enough to tell me when to turn at the seventh church, which led us onto a tree-lined street. She tapped me on the shoulder a few blocks later to tell me to stop, and I pulled up in front of a nice little suburban house, typical of the street, with the smell of cooking burgers drifting out into the street from its backyard.

We just sat there silently for a minute, staring at the house, during which I couldn’t help begin to wonder just what we were doing here… Finally, I became just a little too curious and couldn’t help but ask her, “Well. This the boyfriend’s place, then?”

I never really thought that she’d be dating someone from out in Paoli, or that she’d have me drive her to her boyfriend’s house even if she _was_ , but the silence was getting a little creepy. I had to say something, and I figured I’d go for witty.

She didn’t even look at me, staring down the street and taking off her helmet. “Shhh,” was all she said, and I followed her gaze, raising my eyebrows at the kid walking down the street toward us – or, more accurately, the house.

I say ‘kid’ because he looked like he was ten or eleven. A scrawny thirteen at the absolute most. I glanced back at Jess quizzically, but she didn’t seem to notice me, still staring at the kid like he was the fricken Holy Grail.

Then, all of a sudden, she got off the bike, crossed the street toward the kid, and said something. I have no idea what it was, because she was, as I just said, _across the street_ , but whatever she said, that kid spun around and stared at her like she had a gun to his head. Even from across the street, I could see his freckles standing out against his pale cheeks.

I took my helmet off to get a better look.

For a second, the kid looked at me, and it was hard to keep my features calm when confronted with the look of absolute shock and even _fear_ on his face. Then he looked back at Jess, and I was just a witness for the rest of the scene, which consisted of the two talking for a short time, then the kid – whoever he was – rushing at Mastriani and saying something very angrily to her, before his mother called him inside.

Then Jess just… stood there for the next few seconds. I swear, had it not been for the way she stood there, completely frozen, on that sidewalk, I would have thought she was some sort of bully that got her kicks from things like this.

Okay, maybe not. I might not have known her all too well at that point, but even then I knew Jess would never do something like that. But whatever was going on – because something was quite clearly _going on_ – I could tell, just from the way she was standing there, that it had not gone as she’d planned. And that it was none of my business, despite me being her transportation.

So I kept my face blank and continued to joke with her: “Kid’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

Jess spun around almost as if she’d forgotten I was there – which she very well might have – and stared at me.

“Takes all kinds, I guess,” I shrugged when she didn’t say anything. “Still, I didn’t have you pegged for having a Boy Scout fixation.”

Mastriani continued to stare at me, not saying anything. Even so, I could see the thoughts whirling around in her head, the confusion and the ‘ _should I tell him_ ’ obvious in her eyes. I waited for another few seconds, hoping that she actually would – but after just a few moments I realized she wasn’t going to, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to push her. And not just because of her fabled right hook.

So I sighed, and changed the subject. “Well,” I said, “We could stand around here all night, if you want to. But the smell of those burgers is making me hungry. What do you say we go try to find some of our own?”

She nodded and almost took a step towards me, before stopping and looking back at the house again. But when I called, “Mastriani,” she turned back around and got back onto the bike behind me without another word.

I gave her my spare helmet again, put mine back on, and when she said she was ready to go, we were out of there.

I could tell down to the minute when she finally relaxed, which happened to be only after we were once again doing 90 on the highway. Her grip around my waist – which had been tight almost to the point of painful – relaxed, and even through the wind and my helmet, I could hear her letting out her breath in a sigh.

I really was curious, but at the same time I knew not to ask. Instead, I just, kind of… put it out of my mind. Despite all that had happened, I was still out on a date with Jess Mastriani. And for some reason, that fact seemed more and more important to me as the evening went on.

So I took her back to town, but not all the way in. I stopped at Chick’s, mostly out of habit, and it only occurred to me after I had parked and we’d both gotten up and taken off our helmets that she might have expected something different. I mean, sure, we met in detention and she loves bikes, but still… Chick’s bar was kind of – well, I’m pretty positive that not one Townie male had willingly crossed the threshold since it was built, let alone a girl, let alone on a date.

But then I saw the grin on Jess’s face and I relaxed. Obviously, she didn’t mind.

We went inside and almost immediately, she dashed off to use the phone. It could have been just to call her parents or friend or something, but something told me it was related to what had just happened, in Paoli.

I shook the thought out of my mind and headed up to the bar. “Hey Chick.”

Chick, behind the counter, grinned at me, “Rob! It’s been a while…”

I shrugged. “You know how it is.” Then I ordered for us – at which Chick raised his eyebrows up high.

“ _Two_ orders? Who’s the date?”

By this point a couple other people had joined us and looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. Chick began to get the burgers and I shrugged. “Jess Mastriani. I met her in detention.”

This earned me a few laughs and even a slap on the back, and Jed grinned. “Where is she, then?”

I was about to answer when Chick came back with our meals in two red plastic buckets. Instead, I held them up in the air and called, “Jess!” loud enough that she could hear it over the jukebox. She nodded when she saw me, and said something into the phone, before hanging up and heading back over to us.

I knew the instant everyone saw her. There was a momentary pause, and all eyes turned to me for a single second – everyone silently asking, ‘a _Townie?_ ’ – before I stepped in, not meeting any of their eyes, and introduced Jess to them.

To tell the truth, I was pretty worried for a while there. Most of the guys at Chick’s are a lot older than Jess and I, and some of them look a little intimidating – like Jed, with his ‘Nam tattoo: _1/31/68_ – but Jess got along with them really well. Well, except for the first few minutes, during which whenever she spoke, all heads turned to give me an incredulous look, and finally Tom asked me, “Where’d you _get_ her?”

Luckily, Jess still didn’t seem to mind, and simply replied, with a roll of her eyes, “From the girlfriend store.”

After that, everyone pretty much got along.

I did try to ask her about the kid in Paoli later, tried quite a few times actually, but she wouldn’t tell me anything, finally rolling her eyes and saying, “He’s my loan shark, okay?” which of course made everyone at Chick’s laugh, and by which point I realized that she just was not going to tell me.

I drove her home a while later, or at least to her street corner. She didn’t say anything, but it was pretty obvious that her parents weren’t as oblivious to the local ‘Grit’ code most Townies have – namely, no Grits allowed.

She took of my helmet and handed it to me with a smile, and I couldn’t really help it.

I kissed her.

Not a long, passionate kiss or anything, but a real kiss at least, and it was… well, honestly it was great. Even if Mastriani obviously wasn’t _expecting_ a kiss, judging by the way she almost fell off the Indian, but she certainly didn’t act like she didn’t _want_ a kiss.

I watched her walk back to her house and go inside, even waiting until I saw a light on the third floor switch on, before I left. I drove home happy, went to bed happy, woke up happy, talked with my mom – hell, I even made the mistake of mentioning the date to her!

I even went so far as to drive by her house Sunday, hoping that she might come out, though of course she didn’t.

I went to school on Monday in a great mood, with the intentions of asking Jess out again. Those intentions lasted all of three minutes into second period, where I commented on the fact that I’d never seen her in any of my classes and how that was odd. Then, that bastard Wylie laughed at me. When I asked why, he said, “Mastriani? Well duh, you haven’t seen her in classes; she’s only 16, not a senior. You didn’t seriously think she was, did you?”

Yeah. Mastriani was only 16. _Jailbait_.

Just great.


	3. Chapter 3

I should have known.

I mean, it was so obvious, now that I thought about it. There were so many signs.

She hadn’t been retaking Health… she’d just been _taking_ it. And the geometry homework she’d been doing the other day – why hadn’t I connected that with when _I’d_ taken it, a couple years ago? Or the way she’d reacted when I kissed her: of course she hadn’t been expecting it!

Like I said, sometimes I am incredibly stupid.

“Damn,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair, and Wendell, on my other side – yes, we have to sit together sometimes in class too, because that’s also alphabetical – snickered.

“What’s wrong, Wilkins? You don’t want to touch a sophomore? Maybe I’ll have to do it for you then… Mastriani looks like she could – ”

Before he could finish his sentence, Wylie – once again proving that he’s smarter than Wendell – put a hand over his mouth. I glared at Hank, “You leave her alone, Wendell, or you _will_ regret it!”

Hank just rolled his eyes, shoving Greg off of him. “Yeah, whatever.”

He was really lucky that the bell rang just then.

Yeah, I know you might be asking: Why? Why are you getting so worked up over Jess being only 16?

Two words: _Eighteen_ , and _probation_.

Yeah, due to a stupid stunt a few months ago, which I’m not going to go into detail about here, I’m on probation, and that means if I get caught dating a 16-year-old, I’m going to be in big trouble. Why? Well, technically I’m an adult, and that makes Jess – what was that word again? Oh yeah, _jailbait_.

So basically, no more dates with Mastriani for me.

Needless to say, I was pretty pissed about this for the rest of the day, but by the time detention had rolled around, I had a plan, albeit a simple one. Basically: ignore her and hope she doesn’t try to talk to me.

And it seemed to work for a while. I got to detention before her, so I had enough time to sit down and start reading a new book – another spy novel I’d found in my attic – before she got there.

It didn’t help matters that Mastriani had been moved back to the _W_ s permanently. I mean, if she had been way up in the front, it wouldn’t have been so hard, ignoring her. But as it was, she was sitting right next to me, on my left, and she kept on giving me little glances for the first few minutes, that got increasingly annoyed as I didn’t acknowledge her.

Still, I don’t think she would have actually said anything, if it weren’t for that ass Wendell. He leaned over to her, with a little smirk, and even before he opened his mouth I knew there would be trouble. “Hey, Mastriani,” he whispered, “what’s this I hear about Wilkins slipping you the sausage last Friday?”

Sorry, Miss Clemmings, after that a fight was inevitable.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on your point of view – Mastriani got him before I did, with an elbow to the throat. Hank made an odd croaking noise that made me smile, but then he (very stupidly) made a move to retaliate, aiming a punch at Jess’s nose.

Before he could touch her, though, I was out of my seat and I had grabbed his arm, twisting it up and back into a very painful position. I glared at him. Obviously, I’d made a mistake not hitting him earlier, despite the bell ringing.

“I thought we agreed you were going to leave her alone,” I said, happy to see pain on his face.

Then Mastriani caught my attention, twisting her head back from where my belt was practically in her face – oops, awkward – to glare at me. Me! What had _I_ done wrong?

“Have you been going around telling people we had _sex?_ ”

Oh. She was blaming me for this. That was – well, that wasn’t really fair. I hadn’t said anything; it wasn’t my fault Wendell had been there when I asked her out any more than it was my fault he was such an asshole.

From up in the front of the auditorium, I could see members of the drama club staring at us, and hear Miss Clemmings saying, “What’s happening back there? Mr. Wilkins, release Mr. Wendell and sit down at once!”

As if any of us would actually listen to her.

“Jesus, Wilkins,” I was happy to hear that Hank sounded quite strangled. Obviously Jess’s elbow to the throat had done some damage. “You’re breaking my goddamned arm.”

Oh, I’m sorry.

“I’ll snap it off, if you don’t leave her alone,” I snarled, in a voice I don’t think I’ve ever used before. Where had that come from? I mean, yeah I was angry at him, but this was just a little over the top, right?

Even though I was thinking this in my head, all I actually did was glare a little bit harder, and twist his arm just that much more.

“Jesus, all right,” Wendell croaked – just in time because Miss Clemmings was already halfway up the aisle toward us, and I really didn’t want to know what would happen if she tried to get in the middle of this.

I let him go, and he fell back in his chair, panting and rubbing his arm. I sat back down in mine, giving him a contemptuous look. What a wimp.

“That’s better,” Miss Clemmings said, and I blinked up at her for a second until I realized that she thought _she’d_ broken up the fight. Yeah, dream on, art teacher.

She turned around and headed back towards the front of the room, and I went back to my book, trying – and failing – to actually understand what I was reading.

“What did he mean?” Mastriani hissed at me from my left, and it was all I could do to suppress a groan. I should’ve known I wouldn’t get off that easy. “What was he talking about?”

“Nothing,” I said, not looking up at her and trying not to notice how hot she was when she was angry. “He’s an asshole. Just cool it, will you?”

“No, I will not cool it. I want to know what he was talking about. What the hell is going on? Did you tell your friends we _did it?_ ”

Okay, that was going too far. I looked up, trying to keep my face blank as I replied, “First of all, Wendell is not my friend.”

Wendell muttered, “You got that right,” with an injured expression, _still_ rubbing his wrist.

“Secondly, I didn’t tell anybody anything about you, okay?” I finished, “So just calm down.”

Apparently, that statement offended Mastriani, because her glare went up a notch, and she said, “Look, I don’t know what’s been going on here. But if I find out you’ve been telling people stuff about me behind my back, I will pound on you. Understand?”

I know she was perfectly serious, but I couldn’t help it: I smiled. I mean, come on. Mastriani is just about 5 feet tall, and no matter how good a punch she has, I’m pretty sure she would never be able to beat me in a fight.

“ _You’re_ going to beat on _me?_ ” I asked, barely suppressing a chuckle.

“Don’t, man,” Hank said from behind her, apparently physically unable to stay out of the conversation, no matter how much I hurt him. “She hits really hard, for a girl.”

“Yeah,” Jess said angrily, “So you better watch it.”

It was pretty funny, Wendell and Mastriani ganging up on me, and I’m really not sure what I would have replied, but it was sure to be scathing. However, before I got a chance to open my mouth, Miss Clemmings whispered, “Shhh,” and I realized that maybe provoking Jess more wasn’t such a good idea.

So I just sat back and stuck my nose in my book, still trying to pretend that I was actually _reading_ it, and I stayed that way for the rest of detention. When it ended, Jess stomped out of there before I could say anything – not that I was planning on it.

With a final shove to Wendell, and a goodbye to Wylie, I headed out to the parking lot and my Indian.

I was on my bike, just about to put my helmet on and speed up out of the parking lot, when I saw Jess, stomping along the sidewalk with a furious look on her face. A wave of guilt hit me. Had she thought I was going to give her a ride home? The fat friend was nowhere in sight.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Jess, and maybe a little ashamed. It wasn’t _her_ fault I couldn’t go out with her. She didn’t even know what was going on. All _she_ knew was that I asked her out Friday, and now on Monday I was just ignoring her.

So I coasted over to curb next to her and said, “Jess. Come on.”

She didn’t even bother to look at me, glaring straight ahead. Yeah, I felt guilty all right. “Get lost.”

“What are you going to do,” I asked, hoping that maybe logic might work, “walk all the way home? Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You can shove your _ride_ ,” she snarled, “up your ass, asshole.”

“Look,” I sighed, realizing that I probably _would_ have to tell her. Well, technically I didn’t, I could just let her think I was a huge jerk and leave it at that, but for some reason I really didn’t like that idea. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake, all right?”

She _still_ didn’t look at me. Damn, she was angry! “You better believe it,” she said.

“I just thought you were older, okay?”

At that, she stopped dead and turned to look at me, surprise momentarily erasing the anger on her face, before it made a comeback and she demanded, “What do you mean, you thought I was _older?_ ”

Shit, I really was going to have to tell her, wasn’t I? This was… awkward. Still, I tried one last time to let her know what I meant without actually going out and saying it: “I didn’t know you were sixteen, okay? I mean, you don’t act like a sixteen-year-old. You seem a lot more mature. Well, except for the whole punching-guys-who-are-a-lot-bigger-than-you-are thing.”

Of course, Mastriani didn’t understand my subtle phrasing, and asked me, “What does it matter how old I am?”

Crap. “It matters.”

“I don’t see why.”

“It just does,” I said, getting exasperated. I think it would be obvious by now that I didn’t actually want to tell her!

She just shook her head, “I still don’t see why.”

Normally I would have continued arguing, but suddenly I was just too tired. She wanted to know why? Fine, I’d tell her then. “Because I’m eighteen.” I couldn’t meet her gaze, looking down at the ground. “And I’m on probation.”

There was a short pause, then she asked, “What did you do?”

I blinked, then sighed. Of course she wanted to know. “Nothing.”

A car passed us, honking its horn. Miss Clemmings, behind the wheel, waved at us as she drove by. What, we were friends now?

“No, seriously,” All anger was gone from Jess’s voice, replaced by curiosity. “What’d you do?”

Yeah, there was no way in hell I was going to tell her that. I mean… it was just so stupid! I may not be able to go out with her, but that doesn’t mean I want Mastriani _laughing_ at me. “Look, it was stupid, all right?”

She didn’t give up. “I want to know.”

But this was one issue I wasn’t going to budge on, and I told her so. “Well, I’m not going to tell you, so you better just forget about it.”

She didn’t answer, and I decided to take that as a win. Might as well say exactly where I stand now, since I’d already told her this much. “So, I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Us going out, I mean.” Suddenly an idea hit me, and I could help but voice it, desperate as I sounded. “Unless… When’s your birthday?”

“Just had it last month.”

I couldn’t stop myself; “Shit!”

I glanced at her, embarrassed, but she didn’t seem to mind, just looking considering. “Look, I don’t care that you’re on probation.”

Yeah. I should have expected Mastriani to be persistent. I just didn’t think she’d actually liked me that much. “Yeah, but your parents will.” …Not to mention my probation officer.

“No they’re cool.”

I laughed at that. “Right, Jess. That’s why you made me drop you off at the end of the street, instead of in front of your house. Because your parents are so cool. They’re so cool, you didn’t want them to know anything about me. And you didn’t even know about the probation thing then. Admit it.”

I could tell I had her there. She sighed, acknowledging the truth of my words, and I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. I sort of wished I _didn’t_ have her, you know?

“Well,” she said, “They’re just going through sort of a hard time right now, and I don’t want to cause them any more stress. But look, there’s no reason they have to know.”

It was an appealing offer… But I already knew that it would never work out. “Word gets around, Jess. Look at Wendell. It’s only a matter of time before your parents – and my probation officer – get wind of what’s going on.”

I actually hoped she might argue some more, prove me wrong, but she just shrugged. “Whatever.”

I thought that was that – but then Mastriani started walking again. Stubborn woman! “Mastriani,” I called tiredly, “Look, just get on the bike, will ya? I’ll take you home. Or to your street corner, I guess.”

She still wasn’t done mocking me, turning and fluttering her eyelashes, “I don’t know… I mean, Miss Clemmings already saw us together. Supposing she goes running to the cops – ”

I interrupted her, annoyed and suddenly just wanting to go home. “Just get on the bike, Mastriani.”

She did, and I took her home and dropped her off, glad that I’d finally resolved the whole issue. As I accelerated away from her house, my mood lightened. At least that was taken care of, right? And now things could just go back to normal.

I didn’t particularly mind normal.


	4. Chapter 4

Do you by any chance remember that whole ‘normal’ thing I talked about? Yeah, when I said I liked it?

Unfortunately I never got to enjoy it. First I had to deal with my mom asking me about Jess over breakfast. I’d forgotten that I had told her about the date we went on Friday, at least until she sat down across from me and said, with a smile, “So, how is it going with the girl?”

“Th-The girl? What – Oh.” I sighed. “Um, it’s not.”

Mom raised her eyebrows and I shrugged. “Not going, I mean.” I looked down at my plate. “She’s just sixteen.”

“Oh. I see.” There was an awkward silence. My mom was really disappointed in me for getting in trouble with the law – not even because it was trouble, but because it wasn’t for a good reason, and, well, it was _really_ stupid, and it left a permanent mark on my record, even if I'd done it before I turned eighteen.

“I trust you, Rob,” She said, with a smile. “You’ll do the right thing.” Of course, that made me feel even guiltier, since last time she trusted me I’d done the opposite…

Anyway, things _seemed_ normal after that. I went to school, ignored Wendell and a couple of my teachers, and basically did what I usually do. It really was my normal routine, nothing wrong with it – but my thoughts kept straying back to Mastriani.

Not _all_ the time. I wasn’t pining away or anything. I just… wondered how she was doing, and if she still thought I was a jerk, even after our conversation the other day. I also wondered what would happen when detention rolled around. I figured there were three ways it could go: 1) We completely ignored each other, 2) She got mad at me again, or 3) She kept talking to me, trying to find out what I was on probation for.

I know, very exciting, right?

But one thing I never expected was her just… not showing up. I mean, there is no _way_ her detention was lifted. She’d punched that Day guy just last week, which had to add at least another week of detention, on top of the several weeks I was sure she already had. And she’d never skipped detention before that I knew of.

But after fifteen minutes of sitting there, watching the door, I realized that she wasn’t going to come, and obviously Miss Clemmings knew that, because she hadn’t made a big deal out of it. Maybe she was sick?

I sighed, sitting back in my chair, and finally looked away from the door. Well, back to the good old detention before Mastriani came along: i.e. sitting and watching the plays, or reading a book, or trying not to fall asleep.

I’d managed to work through all of the above options several times by the time Hank grew bored with his third paper football and leaned over to whisper to me, “Hey, did you hear? Your girlfriend got hauled off by the cops today.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Was all I said, too busy trying to ignore him and wondering exactly _why_ the drama department chose such boring plays. Then again, I guess any play will get boring by the twentieth time you’ve seen it rehearsed.

Hank reached out and shoved my shoulder, trying to get my attention. That guy can’t stand silence. He’s the one who starts 60% of all the arguments or fights in detention, because he just doesn’t know when to shut up. “Yeah, whatever man. It’s true, though. Smith saw it. She left in the middle of the day with a couple of cops.” He grinned, and since he was leaning over to whisper to me without attracting Miss Clemmings’s attention, I was lucky enough to be blasted with his bad breath.

I leaned back, disgusted. “Get off me, Wendell.”

He sat back, looking annoyed. “It’s true. Ask Smith.”

Normally, I wouldn’t listen to a word the idiot said, but… I really was bored and besides, Smith wasn’t prone to lies.

So I reached over and grabbed Wendell’s paper that hadn’t yet been spit on, and turned to snatch the pen Wylie had been using to carve his name into the arm of his seat. He looked up at me indignantly, but I ignored him, scribbling down a note. _Smith, is it true about Mastriani getting dragged off by cops? – Rob_

Then I folded it up and wrote _George_ on the front, before handing it to the guy in front of me.

If I had been any other guy, I’m pretty sure my note would never have reached its destination. But, luckily for me, I’m stronger – and taller – than all the guys here, and we all know it, which gives me some added perks, like them listening to me occasionally, and not peeking into my private things.

After about fifteen minutes the note made its way back, and I opened it, narrowing my eyes at what I read. _No, they weren’t cops – at least I don’t think so. They weren’t wearing uniforms. And she was just walking out with her dad, and them. They weren’t dragging her._

I sighed. Wendell, making up rumors again. Jess was probably just going home early because she felt sick or something.

I was proved wrong about that as soon as I got home, when I saw her in the newspaper.

Front page, a not-so-flattering photo of her, right underneath the headline, _Touched By The Finger Of God_ – how could I miss it?

May I take just a minute here to mention that ‘normal’ concept again. You know the one. Yeah, well, after I saw the newspaper, I pretty much knew it wasn’t coming back any time soon.

Well, okay, it _might_ have – there’s a small possibility, anyway – if I hadn’t read the newspaper and realized that not only does Mastriani play the flute, but apparently got _struck by lightning_ the day I left her in the storm.

And she still smiled at me the next day!

If she’d gotten her psychic powers any other day, I swear to you, I would not have cared. I know it sounds weird, but it really would have been none of my business, and anyway I was trying _not_ to talk to Mastriani.

But it was my fault.

She got struck by lightning and got psychic powers because _I_ – and maybe that friend of hers – had left her to walk home in the storm. Me.

I’ve got to say, though, the thing that shocked me most – and actually made me pretty mad – was that she hadn’t told me. I mean, I was there right before she was hit, and then – well, I took her to one of the missing kid’s houses! And she _still_ couldn’t be bothered to tell me?

I was pretty angry about that until it occurred to me how confusing it must be to wake up one morning with psychic abilities – and just in case you're wondering, yes I do believe they exist. Psychics, I mean – if it were me I wouldn't have told anyone right away either. Then I just started feeling worried about her. I mean, yeah, I know I said I’d stay away from her – but this new development changed everything. I even tried to call her, but the number was disconnected, which made sense. They were probably getting a lot of phone calls right about now.

I have to tell you, I was pretty conflicted about what to do, if anything. On the one hand, I really wanted to go see her, and ask if she was okay. On the other hand – well, we weren’t really friends. We’d just gone out on one date and sat together in detention. She probably wouldn’t appreciate me coming by.

I eventually decided not to go visit her – judging by the disconnected phone, things couldn’t be too pretty on her street right now, and there was still the whole she-might-not-even-want-to-see-me thing – but I still wanted to talk to her, probably tomorrow in school.

Now, you might be asking, why? Why are you seeking Mastriani out, after all the reasons you just gave _not_ to?

Well, it’s simple: I was the one who took her to see that kid – who, I learned from the newspaper, was called Sean – so it was sort of my business. And… I really _was_ worried about her.

Especially when I found out more about Sean, and his dad. When I learned that, I decided on the spot to talk to her as soon as possible.

Which was how I came to be leaning on her locker the next day, watching her and the fat friend – whose name I still didn’t know – approach.


	5. Chapter 5

The friend saw me first, and elbowed Mastriani in a way that I guess was meant to be subtle. It might have worked, had Jess not grabbed her side in pain and started yelling at her.

Or at least, she _was_ yelling at her until she turned and saw me. The friend practically ran away – I couldn’t tell whether I was more grateful or offended by the way she dashed away as soon as possible – and Jess walked up to me.

“Hey,” I said, for lack of anything better. How do you start a ‘you’re-psychic-why-didn’t-you-tell-me/are-you-okay’ conversation with your not-really-friend-but-not-girlfriend-either-because-that-would-be-illegal? I don’t think it’s even been done before.

She didn’t look at me, ducking her head and starting to spin her lock. “Hey.”

“So,” I said, deciding just to jump right in, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mastriani still didn’t look at me, pulling out her geometry book – which, if I had realized was a sophomore class a few days ago, we would never have been having this conversation – and shaking her head. “Actually, I wasn’t planning on telling anyone.”

Nothing more than I’d expected – well, once I’d calmed down about everything, anyway. “That’s what I figured. And the kid?”

“What kid?” As if she didn’t know.

“The kid in Paoli. That was the first one?”

It was a moment before she answered me, but then she swallowed audibly and went, in an upset-but-trying-not-to-be way, “Yep.”

I just looked at her for a second. Really, I could walk away right now. I mean, I knew all I wanted to know. But just like two days ago, I couldn’t just leave. I just… couldn’t.

“You could have told me.”

She smiled at that, but it didn’t look like a real smile, more like she was grimacing. “I could have.” She pulled a notebook out of her locker. “Would you have believed me?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprising myself. I mean, I know I believe that psychic stuff _exists_ , but I probably wouldn’t have believed if someone just came up to me and said that they got struck by lightning and could now find missing kids. But as soon as I said it, I realized that if _Jess_ had told me, I would have believed her. It was like… I already knew she wouldn’t lie about something like that, even if I didn’t know her all that well. I knew I could trust her to tell the truth.

All in all, this was a slightly disturbing realization, especially since it seemed like an ‘I-want-to-go-out-with-you’ sort of feeling, and not only was I not _allowed_ to date Jess, but up until then I’d thought I hadn’t _minded_ , other than being a little disappointed at first.

Apparently, however, I did care.

“Yeah,” I continued as if nothing had happened, which as far as she knew, had, “I would have.”

At that, she turned and just _looked_ at me, very intently, for quite a few seconds. I have no idea what she was thinking, but she looked deep in thought, and that, coupled with my realization from just a few seconds ago, made me a little uncomfortable.

Still, after a little while she snapped out of it, and shoved her locker door closed, turning and starting to walk away. “Well, I gotta go.”

It was then that I remembered Sean.

“Jess,” I called after her, not even sure of what I wanted to say, but knowing that I still really wanted to say _something_.

She turned around with a questioning – and slightly hopeful – look on her face, and waited for me to continue.

This felt very… well, very awkward. I’m not exactly used to comforting people, let alone girls, let alone girls I don’t know very well, let alone girls like Jess. But I tried, sort of. “I heard. About the kid. Sean.” Yeah, the place we were having this conversation didn’t exactly help, what with the tons of kids rushing past us, talking and laughing loudly, and the creepy fluorescent lights overhead. But I pressed on anyway.

“It wasn’t your fault, Jess. The way he acted that day, outside his house…” I trailed off, remembering his face, and the fear in it, which at the time had just seemed weird, but now made all too much sense, “well, I thought there was something weird going on with him, too. You couldn’t have known. That’s all.” I nodded, trying to seem like I was confident in what I was saying, when in fact I was almost as confused as she probably was. “You did the right thing.”

Jess just stared at me for a little longer, and I could swear I saw tears in her eyes. She shook her head, “No. I didn’t.”

Then she turned around and disappeared into the crowd, and this time I didn’t stop her.

But I thought about her, and I worried even more than before. The deadness in her voice when she had said that scared me – she was obviously blaming herself for sending Sean back to his abusive father, when she had no reason to. Yeah, technically it was her fault – but in reality, she did what she thought was the right thing, and what seemed to be the only thing she could do at the time. How it had turned out was not her fault.

But I doubted anybody would be able to convince her of that.

I kept an eye out for her, but apparently she’d been let off her detention for good, so I didn’t run into her for the rest of the day. And then, the next day, she just didn’t show up at all.

I asked around about her – resisting the urge to punch Wendell when he started making kissy-faces – until I finally got the news. Apparently, her older brother – who is the town’s local “Boo Radley” figure, because he is schizophrenic and rarely goes places – freaked out and attacked the reporters, something I can’t say I disapproved of. I mean, not that I’m advocating it or anything, but come on, from what I heard they were _incredibly_ nasty. According to George, whose dad comes home past Lumley Lane, they had to blockade the road, and nobody could really get in or out.

Anyway, according to Wendell – who, while prone to lying, was at least clever enough to know that I had no qualms about hurting him if he gave me the wrong information – Mastriani got even guiltier about that, saying it was her fault, and then decided to leave, to go to Crane Military Base with the Feds.

I have no idea how he stays in the loop like that. Maybe it has to do with the way he’s always talking.

Anyway, when I first heard that she was up at Crane, I immediately began to worry. I mean, not to sound too anarchistic or anything, but I really don’t trust our government and law enforcement systems that much.

And them getting their very own psychic to play around with, locked up in a _military_ base?

Yeah, not something I would have advised Mastriani to do. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really my business anymore. I had no right to offer an opinion, and even if I _did_ , Jess had already made hers: to protect her brother.

So I tried not to think about her, or any of it really, which was incredibly hard since, as you can imagine, it was all the whole school – no, make that town – was talking about.

I mean, I tried not to get into conversations about it, but it happened everywhere. At the garage:

 **Rick, my uncle and boss:** “I’ve got a new car for you, Rob. In the back; broken windshields and the owner said there’s something wrong with the motor. Hey, did you see the newspaper? This girl’s psychic – doesn’t she go to school with you?"

At home:

 **Mom:** Rob, how is that girl, Jessica, wasn’t it? She _is_ the one in the paper, right? Poor girl, it must be so difficult for her…"

At Chick’s:

 **Chick:** “Back again, eh? What happened to your date?”

 **Wylie:** “You didn’t hear? She’s the psychic – Lightning Girl. The Feds locked her up.”

 **Jed:** “That kid from Friday?”

 **Chick:** “What, and you just let her go, Rob? What are you, insane?”

Even at the grocery store, for Chrissakes!

 **Cashier:** “Here’s your gum… Hey, don’t you go to Ernie Pyle High? You seen that Lightning Girl? She used to come in here sometimes…”

On the plus side, I learned that Chick doesn’t read the newspaper; my Mom thinks I should be there for Mastriani; oh, and Jess likes Bubblicious.

On the minus side, well, I was trying to _avoid_ talking about her. Chick really ought to be more up to date on current events; my mom is supposed to know that I’m not actually _dating_ Jess and support that, since it’s illegal and all; and why the hell would I care that Mastriani likes Bubbilicious? Why do I even remember that?

It was not a fun two days.

Two days, you say. Did all the news really die down in just two days?

No, far from it – but it had been only two days when I got the phone call from Mastriani.

I was at home, luckily alone because Mom was out late trying to get a new job (the plastics factory laid her off last week), when the phone rang. I picked it up, just in time to hear a distant voice on the other end, “…hell out of here.”

I _knew_ that voice.

“ _Mastriani?_ ”

Instantly, the voice became clearer, I guess as she put the phone up to her ear. “Rob?”

I sighed, confused. “No, it’s the _other_ person who has this phone number and calls you Mastriani. Why are you calling me?”

She didn’t seem at all put off by my sarcasm, just saying, “Listen Rob, I don’t have long to talk; I kind of stole this phone and Jill’s gonna notice real soon, so please just don’t interrupt me okay?”

I blinked. Stole a phone? Jill? What was going on? “…Okay…”

“Great! Okay,” Jess said, beginning to talk really fast, “Sean escaped and went on the run, I saw his picture on TV so I knew where he was, and I went and got him from the bus stop. I was gonna help him get back to his mom and get her out of jail, but then the FBI guys came and got us, and they locked us up in the infirmary and Sean’s dad is coming to pick him up tomorrow morning, so we really need to get out of here tonight.”

“Whoa.” I blinked, trying to process all of what she said. The first thing that jumped out at me was, “They locked you up?”

“Yes, and look, I know you might not want to but I didn’t know who else to call, but please can you come and get us the hell out of here?”

Well, now I knew what she’d been saying earlier.

And you can guess what I said: “Sorry Jess, that would be breaking into a military base, which is way more against the law than what I did before and probably more so than dating you; there’s nothing I can do.”

Yeah, but I didn’t.

Instead I just said, “Okay,” and hung up.

Yes. Okay. That was my response. Okay, I’ll break you out. No problem, don’t worry about it. I could do this in my sleep.

And it did seem really dreamlike, the next few hours. It was like, ever since she had said ‘they locked us up’, some part of my brain just shut off, and I was operating on autodrive.

Before I knew it I was at Chick’s, standing on a barstool and talking really loudly, like I'd been possessed by some kind of ghost general marshalling his troops, and there were a bunch of people staring up at me and cheering... I am not alone in my distrust of the government and I obviously knew that, but it was still kind of a surprise they were so eager to go along with breaking into an actual military base. Granted, "the army has locked up a teenage psychic against her will for unclear reasons" is definitely alarming for anyone, but still. I mean, at the time, I was just in a hurry to get to Jess and get her out of there, but in hindsight I definitely owe everyone at least a burger. 

I kind of zoned out again and next thing I knew we were out, getting on bikes, and I was saying, “You have the wire-cutters?” and “Follow me,” and we were driving…

And then I was standing there, watching as two other guys carefully cut and peeled the fence back until there was a hole big enough for us all to fit through while still on our motorcycles, and Wendell was there next to me, with Wylie snickering next to him. I looked at them, and they grinned at me, and Wendell patted me on the back, and said, laughing, “Sure as hell you aren’t dating her, Wilkins.” They looked at each-other and laughed some more, before heading up to help with the fence.

And then we were speeding through the wire, and Frankie and Jed from Chick’s peeled off from the rest of the group (which had definitely grown; at least a few were folks I'd never met before who just, apparently, were enticed by the trespassing and vandalism), heading off toward the helicopter, and I dimly recalled something about diversions.

But then the next second after that, none of it seemed to matter, because I heard a voice calling my name. “Rob!”

I immediately skidded to a halt, throwing a foot down and glancing wildly around until I saw her: Mastriani, leaning out of a grated window and waving her arms at me. I picked my foot up and raced toward her, stopping to the side of the window and putting my kickstand down. I yanked my helmet off, getting up and walking toward her, still feeling dream-like.

“Hey, you okay?” I said, staring at her. She was right up against the grate, a big grin on her face as she nodded. I could see that the glass was broken on the window and see a few tiny cuts on her face. Her hair was wild and she had this flushed, excited look –

So I reached out, grabbed her shirt, yanked her forward, and kissed her.

And right then – as soon as my lips touched hers for the second time – the world suddenly straightened out, and I suddenly realized just _exactly_ what I was doing – what I’d been doing ever since I answered her phone call.

I jerked back. “Sorry.”

She didn’t look too upset, I’ve gotta say, what with the huge grin on her face, but I felt that it needed to be said. “It’s okay,” She replied, “Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?”

And then all the _other_ memories rushed back – all the laws I was breaking, all the guys I had with me – oh _shit,_ the _diversion!_ – and I felt panic begin to build in my throat.

But before I could do anything, I found myself replying, “Piece of cake.”

I stepped away from the window, and began getting the stuff we’d brought ready.

My reason? Well basically… A helicopter was about to blow up. What did I have to lose?

I half-listened to the kid and Jess talking while I began to prepare things. He was asking her who I was, was I her boyfriend, why did she let me kiss her… Yeah, he had it bad all right.

Welcome to the club…

Wait – what?

I did _not_ have it bad for Mastriani. I was just… worried. Worried enough that I went and rounded up a gang to break her out after she called me, even if it meant I had to break into a secure government facility, and I kissed her as soon as I saw her…

Crap.

I didn’t have time to deal with my epiphany, however, because soon Toby was revving his engine, trying to pull the bars free from the window, as they made louder and louder noises…

I could see Jess and the kid – Sean – looking behind them at the door, and then back at me, worried, and I gritted my teeth. Work… Work…

Just when I thought it wasn’t going to come free, and that we were all going to get caught and dumped in jail, Toby gunned his bike one more time, and the grate came loose.

I quickly rushed up to the window, reaching through. “Come on.”

For a second, Jess and Sean fought about who would get out first, but with her and my combined efforts, we managed to yank him out. He didn’t seem at all appreciative of his rescue team, saying, “You have got to be kidding me.”

I ignored him, handing Jess my spare helmet. She took it and put it on, telling Sean, “Look, it’s these guys or your dad. Take your pick.”

“Boy, you drive a hard bargain.” Above his head, two of the guys winked at each-other and chuckled, and I realized it was Frankie and Jed, which meant that the helicopter…

“Here ya go, kid,” said Wendell, shoving the boy a helmet and scooting forward a little, revving his engine. “Hop on.”

It was right about then that the sirens started.

Frankie just grinned, “Here they come.”

Next thing I knew, I was gunning my engine and yelling, “Hang on,” to Jess, who had swung up behind me. She laced her arms around my waist right as men began yelling at us.

It was insane. There were jeeps, and troops, and a guy yelling at us all through a microphone…

I have no idea what would have happened just then if it weren’t for the diversion, but all I can say is, I’m very grateful that Jed and Frankie knew what they were doing. A ball of flame exploded far off, everyone looking over…

“Oh yeah,” Frankie crowed, high-fiving Jed. “We still got it.”

I accelerated, beginning to leave while everyone was distracted, and I heard Mastriani yelling in my ear, “What was _that?_ ”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Okay, this was incredibly illegal, but I was already in the thick of it, so why not enjoy it? It wasn’t like I could stop now.

“A helicopter,” I shouted back, “Just a little diversionary tactic, to confuse the enemy.”

She shouted back, incredulously, “You’ll blow up a helicopter, but you won’t go out with me? What is wrong with you?”

Good question.

I sped up even more instead of answering her, driving towards the gate – but then I suddenly stopped. Everyone else followed my lead, and I paused for a moment, just to look around and remember which side of the gate the hole was…

A man in a bathrobe came out in front of us, as well as the guy with the megaphone in the jeep, still following us, and they both were yelling at us to stop.

Yeah, sure thing, Officer. I’ll get _right on_ that.

Two guys with guns came out, as if they were about to shoot us, and I could feel Jess tightening her grip, pressing her head against my shoulder –

I yanked the bike right at the last second, surprising the military guys and zooming out through the hole in the fence, everyone following us. I was suddenly filled with exhilaration: I’d done it. I had rescued Jess from Crane Military Base. I had broken in there, grabbed her, and just _gone_ , and they couldn’t stop me!

I even laughed when Jess yelled that we were still being followed, turning off the road onto the hills. The jeeps tried to follow, but it was child’s play for us to zoom around them and past them until suddenly, we were lost in the corn and hills, and the army men were nowhere to be seen.

One thing can be said for us Grits: we _know_ how to ride our bikes.

We stopped in a couple of little towns, just to make sure we weren’t being followed, but I think by then everyone knew we’d done it.

I had led a motorcycle gang into Crane Military Base, blown up a helicopter, yanked out a window, and stolen their psychic and a boy they had in custody, and now I was bringing them back home.

Yeah. A little boy who had a monumental-size crush on said psychic, no parents at the moment, and a very unstable future that depended on what we did next. And a psychic, a girl who just the previous day I’d been trying my hardest to just _ignore_ , and who I know knew without a doubt that I liked _very_ well, probably as much as that little boy, whose parents didn’t know about me, and who my mom knew about.

I was taking them _home_.

But right at that moment, zooming along those dark country roads, I felt happy as if none of it even mattered.


	6. Chapter 6

When I woke up the next morning, I was very confused for a few seconds… at least until I realized that I was lying in the barn, and the person whose foot was in my face Sean Patrick O’Hanahan, the kid with the abusive dad.

I stood up, yawning and stretching. Now the rest of the memories of last night were coming back to me… As well as the realization that Jess was currently asleep in my bed, and my mom had no idea.

I dashed out of the barn and back inside the house, hoping that she hadn’t already tried to wake ‘me’ up. It was unlikely, since it was a Saturday and all, but you never knew.

Luckily, she was just coming into the kitchen, blinking when she saw me already there. “Rob, I thought you were still asleep?”

“Um… yeah.” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Um, about that, I brought some people home last night… Uh…”

She just raised her eyebrows, looking at me, in that way that always makes me tell her what’s going on.

“I, uh, kind of went and got… Jess and Sean O’Hanahan last night, from Crane.” I blurted this out really fast, as if saying it quickly would change the fact that I’d broken god-knows-how-many laws last night.

Mom stared at me, and I found myself trying to explain, “They were locking them up, and – and Sean’s dad was going to come take him away tomorrow, and Jess called last night, so I – and some guys from Chick’s – just sort of… Look, I know it was illegal, but it was for a really good reason, and I still don’t even know if they know who I am, and – I’m sorry, okay?”

It’s really hard to talk coherently in front of my mom’s stare.

She stared at me for another few seconds, and I braced myself – she never yells at me, but instead she gets really quiet and controlled, and you can see she’s really disappointed in you… like she was last year, when she had to come pick me up from the police station – but then the unexpected happened: she smiled.

“I already knew, honey, I saw it on the news.” Oh. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

She was still smiling. “It’s okay, Rob. I don’t approve of how you did it, but I knew you were doing what you thought was right. You had a good reason, honey, so it’s entirely different this time.” She smiled at me. “Now, where’s that young man I saw on the news?”

I blinked, and said, kind of surprised, “The barn.”

Mom shook her head at me, and then pointed me in the direction of the stove, and told me to “start cooking, we have guests,” while she went out to the barn to take care of Sean.

I was a little shocked at how calm she was about it, but I quickly got over it. That’s just my mom; she’s incredibly understanding about most things. Like, for instance, she doesn’t even care that I get detention all the time. She knows that I’m generally responsible – with the exception of that one time last year – and so she gives me a lot of freedom, and doesn’t question most of the stuff I do. It’s pretty nice, except sometimes it’s really hard for me to do the right thing, when I know she’d most likely never know.

But the thing is, I wouldn’t be able to cope with it; the few times I’ve done something irresponsible or something I know she disapproves of, I always feel so guilty afterwards, because she’s just as nice to me as always, that I always confess within a couple of days. The longest I’ve ever held out is one school week.

In fact, sometimes I think she knows that, and that’s _why_ she’s so lenient – because it actually keeps me better behaved than if she were strict. But even if that’s the case, I don’t mind, because it still works, and due to her leniency, we’re really close. If I thought she was going to punish me for most things, I wouldn’t tell her half of what I do, but as it is, we talk about pretty much everything.

Mom quickly befriended Sean – she’s one of those people that just has a way with kids – and soon had him collecting eggs and helping with breakfast. I made bacon, and toast, until Mom made me go sit down, and then we started eating.

Or, I _finished_ eating after I had seconds of everything, and Sean just kept on eating. He was well into his third plateful, with Mom still cooking more food, when Jess came downstairs.

“Hi, Jess,” Sean said, excited – his crush was incredibly obvious and big, to the point where he pretty much refused to talk to me, I guess because I kissed Mastriani last night. It was kind of cute.

“Hi,” Jess smiled back, and I looked up at her.

I was still a little confused about what to do when it came to Jess – on the one hand, it seemed like I’d passed the Point Of No Return last night, but on the other… well, it was still illegal, and I was still hoping they wouldn’t catch me from last night. If they didn’t, then it would be pretty lousy to get arrested just for being caught kissing Mastriani, after all that, you know?

And, okay, maybe it was a little more than that. Up until now I wasn’t really willing to admit it, but it was pretty obvious by now that I liked her. You wouldn’t think that this would be a reason to _not_ date her, but it was. Why? Well, it’s a little uncomfortable to admit, but… I’ve never really liked a girl before. I mean, I’ve gone out with them, and liked them okay, but I’ve never _really_ liked anyone, like crush-proportions. And, ever since… well, since my dad, I haven’t been really good about relationships. I don’t really have any close friends – the closest are Chick, Wendell, and Wylie, and I really _don’t_ like including those last two – and as I said before, I’ve never really liked a girl. And I know my mom and I have a very close relationship, which might have something to do with it.

And she hadn’t even told her parents about me, either. That was something else I was pretty sensitive about, what with the whole ‘Grit’ issue. I know for a fact I’m not worse than any Townie, but that doesn’t mean I _like_ them looking down on me. And even if I’m pretty sure Jess wouldn’t be _ashamed_ of me, she probably just wouldn’t want to deal with the hassle of telling her parents, which I would not be comfortable with.

But the point is, all of this added up to a simple answer to the ‘Should I date Jess’ question: NO.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t exactly ignore her now. That plan really wouldn’t work anymore.

I blinked, returning to reality, right as my mom said, “You must be Jess.”

Oh god, don’t tell her what I told you about her… Don’t tell her what I told you…

Luckily, my mom is a very good person, so she just smiled and said, “Pull up a chair and sit yourself down. How do you like your eggs?”

It was pretty amusing, once I relaxed anyway, watching Jess trying to make polite conversation with my mother, especially with Sean in the mix, inserting comments and giggling, all giddily. I couldn’t suppress a smirk when Jess asked what the “white stuff” was. Yeah, we really _do_ eat grits. The shock in her eyes when I said so was also highly amusing, and for the most part, I was enjoying myself – at least until Mastriani asked for a phone, but refused our house one.

“What’s up?” I asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” she said, as if I would believe that. I’d known her less than two weeks and I already knew it was never ‘nothing’ where Jess was concerned. “I just need to make a call. Is there a pay phone around here?”

“There’s one down the road, over by the IGA,” Mom said, and I knew exactly what was going to happen after that. So I wasn’t really surprised when Mastriani asked me for a ride, and I just said, “Yeah, I’ll take you.”

Of course then, as expected, Sean wanted to come too, and Jess yanked him out of the room to talk to him. After a few minutes, he came back inside and Jess and I left, getting on my bike again and driving away.

I refilled my gas while Mastriani talked on the old pay phone. It was, in itself, pretty uneventful, except for when she screamed “WHAT?” at the top of her lungs; apparently very upset by something she was being told. She talked for a little longer, before hanging up, by which time I’d finished getting gas.

She called me over and told me about the kidnapping story, and rewards for both her and Sean, both of which my mom had failed to mention to me earlier. Oh, and there was an APB out on us. After that, we decided that it might not be the best idea to be seen driving around together. Of course, we had to stop at a _different_ pay phone first, so that Jess could call her parents.

She went on for a while, talking to, well I guess her dad. Something about dolphins. I didn’t hear any more after that because I’d seen a cop pulling into the parking lot. I poked her to get her attention, and then kind of… walked my bike away, so it wouldn’t seem like I was with her.

We were incredibly lucky. The cops went inside without realizing who we were, and by the time they did, we were already all the way at the turnpike. They followed us, of course, but… as I said before, us Grits know how to drive.

“We’ve got company,” Jess shouted, and I just grinned.

“Not for long.”

I went off the road again, down a ravine into a creek bed, accelerating through the shallow water, and kept going until the creek curved away from the road and I could no longer hear the sirens. Then I went a little farther, just in case. What made me finally drive back up the ravine and stop on the road was the engine; it sounded a little odd.

If I didn’t actually _like_ working on bikes, I would be incredibly annoyed right now, because the Indian was definitely going to need some. Work, that is.

We both got off, and took off our helmets. Jess was wringing the water from the creek out of her shirt, and I’d bent down to pull out all the sticks and river gunk and stuff stuck in the spokes. “You all right?” I asked, glancing up at her.

“Peachy. Listen,” she said, “I’m sorry.”

I raised an eyebrow inquisitively, until I remembered she couldn’t see my face, because I was bent down, and so I said, “Sorry about what?”

I finished the front and had moved to the back tire, pulling out all I could for the moment, by the time she finished her long, rambling answer. “Getting you involved in all this. I mean, I know you’re on probation and all. The last thing you need is to be harboring a couple of fugitives. What if you get caught? They’ll probably lock you up and throw away the key. I mean, depending on whatever it is you did to get probation in the first place.”

I squinted up at her, the sun in my eyes, and could barely control my laughter, even though most of what she’d said was exactly what I myself had been worrying about. But the last sentence… “Are you through?” I tried not to grin.

“Through what?”

“Through trying to trick me into telling you what I’m on probation for.”

She got a highly affronted look on her face, and put her hands on her hips, the picture of indignation. Yeah, right. “I am not trying to trick you into doing anything. I am merely trying to let you know that I am aware of the great personal sacrifice you are making in helping Sean and me, and I appreciate it.”

At that I couldn’t stop my teasing grin any longer. “You do, huh?”

It was right about then that I realized I was still squatting down, and I straightened, pulling up my shirt to wipe off the muddy drops of water some of the sticks I had been pulling out of the spokes had gotten on my face. Then I dropped it, and I was about to say something else, still teasing her – she most definitely _was_ trying to find out what I was on probation for and we both knew it – but I never got the chance.

Why? Well, you see, when I dropped my shirt down from my face, Mastriani just stepped forward and kissed me.

Yes, just like that.

I mean, I was surprised, sure, but I’m not _stupid_. I started kissing her back, letting my eyes fall closed, and putting my hands on cheeks to hold her head still, and it was like that for a minute, us just standing there kissing each-other.

And I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I liked it so much that if it hadn’t been for it being illegal, I don’t know what I would have done – but I’m pretty sure her parents would not approve.

But as it was, I remembered that very-important fact after a minute or two, and pulled back, breathing a little hard. Her hands were wrapped around my neck, and I reached back up to untangle them.

“Jesus, Mastriani,” I said, hoping she didn’t notice the way my voice was shaking, “What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing,” she said, in the exact same way she had earlier, when she wanted to use a pay phone. Only this time I was even _less_ likely to buy it, if that was possible. Because this time, well, I’d been a _part_ of the ‘nothing’ that was going on.

A very enthusiastic part.

“Well, you better cut it out,” I scowled, “We’ve got a lot to do. There’s not time for any distractions.”

Yeah… distractions.

“I think I like that kind of distraction,” She said, the same impish grin on her face, and I had to pick up a helmet and shove it on her head to keep myself from doing something I’d regret. Or, regret more, anyway.

“I’m in enough trouble right now without you adding to it, thanks.” Something else occurred to me, and I added, “And don’t even think about trying something like that in front of the kid.”

She sounded confused from inside the helmet. “What kid? What are you talking about?”

“The kid. O’Hanahan.” I couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed yet. “What are you, blind, Mastriani? He’s got it bad for you.”

She tilted the helmet back, confusion and shock written all over her face. She really hadn’t known, huh? “ _Sean?_ For _me?_ ”

She let the helmet fall back down, her voice completely shocked. “Oh, God.”

“You got that right,” I said, pulling my own helmet on. “He thinks you are one dope girl, Mastriani.”

She started babbling somewhat nervously. “He said that? He sure doesn’t act like he thinks that. He really said I was dope?”

“Well,” I said, sitting down and giving the accelerator a kick. Yeah, it’d be okay. I’d just need to spend an hour or two on the engine later, but the Indian sounded like it would be fine. “I might be allowing my own feelings to cloud the matter a little.”

Shit. Why had I said that? I mean, first I let her kiss me… okay, more than just _let_ , now I was basically telling her that I liked her as much as Sean did? What was _wrong_ with me? Let’s go over it again, Rob: dating Jess Mastriani – big no-no. _Big_ no-no.

I hoped she might have missed what I said, being too shocked by the news about Sean, but she caught it just fine, if the way she went, “You think I’m dope?” was any indication.

I swallowed hard at her tone, and flicked her helmet. “Get on the bike, Mastriani.”

She did so, and we drove back to my house, where I almost immediately excused myself to the bathroom.

I sat down on the edge of tub, and put my head in my hands. God. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to resist a girl like Mastriani when she actually _likes_ you and doesn’t care if you know? I mean, if she had also been set against going out with me, then it wouldn’t be so bad. But, instead, she was going around _kissing_ me, and…

Five minutes later, I rejoined everyone, trying not to look in any way suspicious. Still, almost immediately, Jess pulled me away.

“I have a plan.”

Now, why did those words scare me?


	7. Chapter 7

It turned out, despite my initial worry, I actually _liked_ Mastriani’s plan. Well, what she’d told me of it, anyway. I hadn’t really gotten all that much except that she was going to bargain with the FBI to let Sean and his mother go, and her, too. How was she going to bargain with them? Well, that I didn’t know. All I got when I asked her was a wink and a, “Oh, I’ve got that covered, don’t worry about it.”

And even if I hadn’t approved of her somewhat-simple plan, I couldn’t exactly back out of it now. I mean, it wasn’t as if we could just keep Sean at my house – not matter how much my mom seemed to like him.

Plus, when she was on the phone at the gas station, Jess had gotten some lady at 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU, that place she calls in the missing children, to tell the FBI agents about it, and had set up a meeting.

Oh, and she’d gotten her dad to agree to give me something, she didn’t bother to tell me what, that she was giving to Sean and his parents. Without asking me. I didn’t really appreciate that part, but… Come on. We both knew I was going to do it anyway.

So Jess and I talked about it for a few minutes, straightening things out, and then we went back into the living room, with Mom and Sean.

It took us a while before we finally managed to leave – Mom insisted on letting Sean shower and trimming his hair for him, and I had to call Jed and ask him to help us – but eventually we left.

Jed picked Mastriani and Sean up in his truck, and took them to Ernest Pyle, the agreed meeting place. And I… well, I went to Mastriani’s.

 _No_. Not for food. As if I’d just go off and eat lunch when everything else was going on. And besides, Mastriani’s is pretty expensive. I mean, the food’s good, but the restaurant is pretty upscale, and I’m sort of saving my money so I can start my own garage, so I never go there anyway.

No, I went to Mastriani’s to pick up the mysterious letter she had called her dad about. I admit, I was pretty nervous walking in there, with good reason. I mean, this was her _father_. And yes, we weren’t actually dating, but I had no idea what, if anything, she’d told him about me. And I had kissed his daughter less than three hours ago.

I brushed my teeth before I left. I’m not really sure why – it’s not as if he’s going to smell my breath and suddenly know I kissed Jess – but I did anyway. I guess it just related to my nervousness.

And again, I had good reason to be nervous. When I got to Mastriani’s, I parked and went inside – my Indian looked pretty darn odd in that parking lot, what with the only other cars there being Porsches and the like that belonged to rich Townies on their lunch breaks.

Anyway, I went inside, and up to the maitre d’, and told him, “I’m here to see Mr. Mastriani?”

Before I had time to even blink, this guy came up to me and looked me up and down with a very angry expression. “I’m Joe Mastriani. Who are you?”

“Rob Wilkins.” I held out a hand, but he just narrowed his eyes and glared at me. Shit. What had she _told_ him?

He eyed me for several silent minutes, until I finally said, “I’m here to pick up a-”

He interrupted me by holding out a thick envelope. I reached out to grab it, but he still didn’t let go, eyeing me suspiciously.

“I just hope she knows what she’s doing,” he said, looking me over once more, before finally letting go.

I think it has to be said one more time: _What the fuck did she **tell** him? _I mean, seriously! What could she have possibly said to make him act like this?

Still, I was polite and everything. I just smiled, and said, “She does,” which could mean anything to him, since I didn’t know what he was referring to in the first place. Then, I tucked the envelope into my coat pocket, and quickly walked out to my bike. A semi-fancily dressed woman in the parking lot walked by as I was getting on it, and gave me a scandalized look, leaving a wide berth around me.

Sometimes I really hate Townies.

I drove pretty fast, but even so, by the time I’d got there – parking my bike out on the road and then jogging across the football field to the bleachers – Jess was starting to look worried.

“What were you doing?” she hissed, “They’re gonna be here any second!”

“Look–” I said, somewhat angrily, since it hadn’t been my fault, but that was as far as I got before her eyes got very wide, and she pointed behind me. “A car!” She spun to me urgently. “Quick, hide!”

There wasn’t really anywhere to go, except for down under the bleachers they were sitting on, so I handed the envelope to her and did just that, leaning on one of the poles.

I watched the car pull up and a single man get out, walking up to Jess. He didn’t even bother glancing at Sean, just saying, “You ready?”

Jess shook her head. “Just wait for a bit, okay?” She kind of pointed, and I saw the man – whoever he was – walk up the bleachers to sit way at the top.

Then began the waiting.

It wasn’t really enjoyable, standing their under the bleachers and waiting, especially when the marching band – which had been just assembling when I arrived – started practicing, of all things, “Louie, Louie”.

Our marching band is not very good.

Sean kept trying to ask Jess what was going on, and why we were still waiting – not something _I’d_ mind knowing either, but she just kept avoiding the subject, I guess because she wanted to surprise him. You know, with his mom.

Still, it was pretty boring just standing there, and after a few minutes – about when the band switched songs (it didn’t help their sound any) – I sat down.

It was because of my new position that I saw them approaching; a man and two women, all of whom I knew by hearsay, if not in person. The man and the woman from the front of the black sedan they’d gotten out of were the two FBI agents that had taken Mastriani away in the first place, and the other woman was the kid’s mother.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation above me – it was just idle talk anyway – until I heard Jess’s tone change, suddenly becoming serious. “Look, Sean, I want you to take this. It’s for you and your mom. Jed’s going to drive you to the airport. I want you to get on a plane – any plane – and take off. Don’t make any calls. Don’t stop for anything. You can buy whatever you need when you get to where you’re going. Understand?”

Huh. So the mysterious envelope had been for him. Now I _really_ wanted to know what it was…

“What are you talking about?”

I tuned back into the conversation as Jess replied, “Your mom. You two are going to have to start over, somewhere else. Somewhere far away, I hope, where your dad won’t be able to find you. This will you get started.” Very, very, very curious about the ‘this’ down here…

Sean was still clueless. What, he couldn’t _see_ them? They were already about halfway to us. “Jess. My mom’s in jail. Remember?”

“Not anymore,” Mastriani said, and I could hear the kid gasp when he finally noticed them. About time.

“What did you do? Jess. What did you do?”

“I cut a little deal,” Jess said, “Don’t worry about it. Just go get her, and then go and get into the pickup with Jed. He’ll take you to the airport.”

I had to smile at the wonder in Sean’s voice. “You did it. You said you’d do it, and you did it.”

“Of course,” Jess said, sounding indignant. As if it was completely ridiculous that she might not have; as if this whole thing had all been a clever plan.

Ha.

Sean ran off, for the touching reunion scene with his mother, complete with her lifting him up and swinging him around in the air. I admit, even my throat felt a little tight, watching that.

But then he came back.

I could tell, from Jess’s voice as she asked, “What are you doing here?” that she was panicking. This, at least, was not part of her master plan.

But really. How could she _not_ expect it? It was obvious that Sean was head-over-heels for her _before_ , but now that she’d miraculously returned his mother to him… if he’d been older I wouldn’t have been surprised at a proposal.

The song changed again, this time butchering the Beatles.

I could hear the tears in both their voices as they spoke, but despite the sad moment, I couldn’t help but snort at one of his next questions. “What about when I’m thirty? You’ll be thirty-three. It wouldn’t be so weird, would it, a thirty-year-old going out with a thirty-three-year-old?”

That was just… priceless.

At least until it occurred to me that if Sean was only two years younger than her – wow, he was small for his age – then he and her were only a year different from her and _me_. That pretty much sucked all he amusement out of the words.

I wonder what she’d say if _I_ asked her to wait until she was thirty. After all, it wasn’t so weird for a thirty-year-old and a thirty-two-year-old to date, right? At least by then I’d probably have my own business, which might make her dad hate me less. It would probably be a lot easier, actually…

I was officially going crazy, wasn’t I?

I snapped back to reality again just in time to hear Sean’s footsteps descending the bleachers. He and his mom embraced again, waving at Mastriani, before heading away, to Jed’s truck.

Then Jess got off the bleachers and walked over to the FBI agents. I couldn’t suppress a grin at the way she teased them, (“Do you burn for one another with a passion that must be denied?”) but they obviously didn’t appreciate it, stating flatly that no, they did not.

I rolled my eyes.

“Well,” went the man, “Do you have the list?”

List? My ears perked up. This must be what she was using to bribe them to let Sean and his mother go. But what exactly could it be a list _of?_ All I could think of was people she’d found – that was what they wanted from her, right? – but I thought she didn’t want to do that anymore.

Well, eventually it turned out I was wrong. It _was_ addresses that she gave them. Well, after making certain that they would let Sean go. Oh, and me and the guys from Chick’s, which both surprised and relieved me. I mean, we blew up a _helicopter_. They must _really_ want to know where these people were, if they were letting us off for that scot-free.

“There are only four addresses here,” said the woman, sounding suspicious.

“What do you think?” Mastriani said, using that affronted voice again. Which I knew by now was just as fake as her ‘innocent’ one. “I’m not a machine. I’m just a kid. There’ll be more where that came from, don’t worry.”

And then, she just sent them away.

Well, not exactly. The lady said, “You know, it didn’t have to be this way, Jess,” in a sad voice, which, I have to say, annoyed me. _They_ were the ones who made it this way.

Jess didn’t seem to appreciate it all that much either, because she just said, “No, it didn’t. Did it?” in a way that made it clear where the blame lay.

They left after that. Which isn’t to say that Jess didn’t get a last jab in. “You know,” she called after them, “No offense to Mrs. Johnson and all, but you two really do make a cute couple.”

I crawled out from under the bleachers when they didn’t even look back. “That was pushing it, don’t you think?”

She turned around and smiled at me again, “I’m just messing with them.”

“Yeah,” I said, brushing the dust off my jeans with a wry expression, “I noticed. You do that a lot. So are you going to tell me what was in that envelope?” What? I was curious.

“The one I gave to Sean?” The voice she used was dangerously similar to what I was already referring to in my head as her ‘Nothing’ tone. Based off of how that was what she’d been saying to me when she used it both times, first at my mom’s house and then just after she’d…

“The one you gave to Sean after you made me pick it up from your dad. Who, by the way, hates me.”

She leaned forward and brushed some dust off my shirt, in what was a purely _girlfriend_ move. I almost called her on it, but then that would be admitting I was looking for things like that, which I wasn’t…

“My dad can’t possibly hate you,” she said, “He doesn’t even know you.”

As if you needed to know someone to hate them. This whole town proved that wrong every day, with all the Grits vs. Townies bullshit. However, I declined mentioning this, as I got the feeling telling her that her dad was prejudiced wouldn’t go too well for me. Instead, I just said, “He sure looked like he hated me.”

She smiled again. Well, actually, she hadn’t stopped. It was a little disconcerting. “That’s just because of what was in the envelope.”

Which brought us right back to A: “Which was?”

Jess shrugged nonchalantly. “The ten grand I got as a reward for finding Marie D’amato.”

I blinked, then whistled. Actually, that might just explain his anger… “You gave that kid ten grand?” I remembered the thickness of the envelope. “In _cash?_ ”

“Well, him and his mother. I mean, they have to have something to live on while she finds a new job and everything.”

_Something to live on?_

“You are one piece of work, Mastriani,” I sighed, shaking my head in shock. “Okay. So that’s what was in the envelope. What was on that sheet of paper you handed to the Feds?”

Now _this_ was something I was interested in. “Oh, just the addresses of some of America’s most wanted.” She was still smiling, a satisfied expression on her face. “I said I’d give them up in return for the charges against Mrs. O’Hanahan being dropped.”

“Really?” Despite having guessed that, I was still surprised. I mean, I thought she had been trying _not_ to be their… what did she call it? Dolphin? I voiced this opinion. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved in all of that.”

“I don’t,” She smirked, “That’s why I only gave them the addresses of the guys from that book of theirs who happen to be deceased.”

It took me a second to get her meaning, but when I did, a slow, gleeful smile spread across my face. “Wait a minute. You – ”

“I didn’t lie or anything.” She had a ‘Nothing’ expression once more, not that I minded this time. This was just too good. She went on, “They really will find those guys where I said they’d be. Well, what’s left of them, anyway.” She wrinkled her nose, “I have a feeling it’s not going to be pretty.”

I shook my head at her sheer audacity, then I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Jess,” I said, still grinning down at her. “you make me proud to have sat by you in detention. Did you know that?”

Her smile grew even brighter, looking more delighted than before. “Thanks.”

Then her gaze shifted away from mine, which wasn’t exactly a bad thing for me. I mean, if we didn’t want to be repeating the same scene from earlier, anyway.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand – again, _girlfriend_ move that I couldn’t mention… even if I’d wanted to at that moment – and began pulling me back to the bleachers. “There’s still one more thing I have to do.”

I looked up, and saw the one guy who had arrived before the Feds had. Right, I’d forgotten about him.

“Who’s that?”

“Who, him? Oh,” Jess smiled, pulling me after her towards him, and glancing behind her to say, “that’s the guy who’s going to set me free.”

And he did.

You see, he was a reporter. The story came out the next day; _Lightning Girl Runs Out Of Juice_.

Yeah. She told him all about how she lost her powers, and the whole story really, slightly edited. And luckily not mentioning my mother’s, or my, names. We read it together, at the Denny’s not far from my house.

Not that we were on another date. Because we weren’t dating. I made that very clear, despite her repeated attempts to make me change my mind. After that breakfast – which, yes, I paid for, but that still doesn’t make it a date – I dropped her off at her street corner, with a promise that that was the extent of our contact.

Of course, she managed to get detention the very next day at school, for punching someone who made fun of her about the whole ‘Lightning Girl’ ordeal. And now she’s sitting next to me again.

But there’s only a few weeks of school left, and then we won’t have any contact at all. I can get along fine until then. Even if I _do_ end up watching her more than I do the plays.

She doesn’t notice, anyway. Hank Wendell does, but I made sure he’d never tell her. Wylie, either.

Yeah. Just a few more weeks, and then I’ll finally be out of here. Finally working full time, finally on the road to eventually getting my own garage. What I’ve always wanted.

I’m looking forward to it.

Really.


End file.
